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コメント > “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” “Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.
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“And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.” “What are you now, son?”

“You have not fucked, have you, my son? Have you?” His father asks, as he readjusts the cock covered and swelling in his khaki pants. “I thought as much.” I was surprised He wasn’t angry. He said,” boy you wait here, I am going to the bathroom.” He closed the door. He must sit on the toilet with pants down because I heard him losing the belt but didn’t hear him peeing. After a while, he called my name,” get in here ass sniffing slut.” I opened the door and crawled to the side of daddy. Daddy was still sitting on the toilet. . Just when I was confused why he sat that and did nothing. He stood up and pulled his pants up. I did take a peep of daddy’s huge uncut Middle Eastern dick. Half hard like 7inches already. While he was doing that, he grabbed my hair pushed right into the toilet, and closed the lid. “ smell my ass from there boy when it is still fresh.” He paused and continued, “ Don’t move.”

“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.

“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region. “What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks.

“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock.

“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.

“You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?” He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.

Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”

“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.” His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

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His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs. “What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face.

Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock. “You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.

“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. “FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.

“Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil. “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.